Rockwell
by Vanora
Summary: As a young boy, Captain Jack Sparrow made a promise to a young girl. She still waits for him.
1. The Way Things Were

Chapter 1 – The Way Things Were  
  
She sat on the beach, long red hair flowing with the wind. The dim sunlight was fading into the west, turning the sea grey. She wore a dress of white, and looked into the distance, dreaming of other days. A lantern sat on the beach next to her, a custom kept for ten years. Each day she came to the beach an hour before the sunset, and stayed, some days until the night grew late. At first she would stay until the sun rose again, her tears, and the waves lulling her to sleep.   
  
Fiona was dressed in a gown of white, loose flowing material. She could have had any man by now, but refused them all. She was now twenty-five, but still held onto a promise made to her at the age of fifteen. He would return, her heart tried to convince her. But in her head, she knew that he was already dead.   
  
Some nights, when all the lights of the city had gone out, the people retired to their beds, Fiona fancied that she saw a sort of ghost ship in the distance. One of the first nights she spent at the beach, she saw it. The blue-eyed girl ran to it, ran in the water, and then swam as far as she could. She was found the next morning, supposedly drowned on the beach. But she was not dead, and lived on many more years indeed.   
  
It was ten years ago, to the day. The girl lived in a settlement on the smallest of islands, with a community of no more than five hundred others. She had grown up in Rockwell, colonized by the Brits and settled by the Irish quite a while ago. Not many friends had the young girl, but one she had was special.   
  
"Jack!" She called out, once more, her voice no longer horse from the first bitter days. It had been ten years ago when pirates had invaded the small settlement, taking it for what it was worth. Her and her friend, Little Jack Turner, as some called him, much to his annoyance, were on the beach playing during hours they should have been in their homes. In the distance they saw a boat. Jack told her there were pirates in it, and she was afraid, but she acted the brave part. Fiona seemed as interested in adventures with pirates and Jack did.   
  
But as they drew nearer, Fiona's courage began to fail. She pulled Jack by her delicate hand, beckoning him to come into the forest, where they would be safe.   
  
"I've got my sword," He said, a charming smile upon him as he pointed to a wooden sword that he made himself. She shook her head and pleaded with him. The pirates drew closer, and were reaching the bay just North of them. They still had a chance to hide in the forest's cover.   
  
Finally, the boy rolled his eyes of dark brown, "Oh, come on Fiona." She gave him a warning look and he shrugged. "Oh well, then. I suppose for your safety I'd better take you into the woods, aye? Before I try t'fight em' off o' course."   
  
She muttered in a scared and hushed whisper, "Whatever Jack, lets just get out of here."   
  
"Just one last look, Fi?" He peered around the bend, and then a look of terror struck his face. He looked at her seriously and said one word, "Run."   
  
She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, and as quietly as she could. Before she had gotten far at all she felt a hand over her mouth and Jack caught her in his arms. They froze, as they heard voices nearby.   
  
"Oy, I know I 'eard some brats talkin' o'er here! And we'd best ta find 'em!"   
  
Her blue eyes wide with fear, Fiona turned around to look at Jack. They were slowly backing into the rocks, and there was just enough space in a small cave for one to slip inside for hiding.   
  
Jack turned to her and whispered in his lowest voice. "Fiona, you stay here, you'll be safe. I'm going to find another place to hide." She was shaking, and he pulled her close, his arms wrapping her tightly. "I promise I will come back for you, Fiona. I will always come back for you."   
  
They heard the breaking of a twig and their eyes went wild. She retreated into the cave, he mouthed to her, "Always," before giving her a debonair wink. For a second she was comforted, and then he was out of sight.   
  
Fiona shook inside her hiding spot, and it began to rain. The footsteps retreated, and she could hear nothing but the pounding of the rain for a long time. The night grew into the hours so late that she couldn't count them.   
  
A loud, loud noise shook Fiona out of her reverie. She had never heard it before, it sounded like, like, an explosion? Fiona crawled out of her hiding place, and ran among the greenery towards the town. There was ruin, so much ruin. The young girl saw the pirates ship retreating, but a last explosion landed too near her. She was knocked unconscious.   
  
Was it hours? Was it days? Was it weeks later? Fiona did not know how long she had slept the dreamless sleep. She woke confused, hardly remembering the events of the previous night. But one thought was perfectly clear to her. Jack. Where was Jack?   
  
Fiona ran back to the forest, still quite disoriented. She cried out as she ran, back to her hiding spot. "Jack! Jack Turner! Are you there! Jack!" That day she ran her voice hoarse with cries. Someone grabbed her and took her home, but she fought and cried, and didn't stop screaming for two days. The boy's body was never found.   
  
The woman on the beach recalled these memories nightly, the small candle of hope that she always held in her heart was still not ready to burn out. She would still wait; she would still call for him. He would come back for her.   
  
A crystalline tear came to her eyes, as she tried again to convince herself. He would come back. And she would never give up that hope.   
  
For she loved Jack Turner. Since the day they had met which she couldn't even remember. Since they were born. Since they had played in the forest and the beach and the town every day of her life until she was fifteen. Fiona couldn't lose hope; she couldn't lose hope for the love of her life.   
  
Jack had a brother as well, William Turner, only a few years older than him. Will had gone in search of his younger brother several years back, never to return to Rockwell again. 


	2. Captain Jack Sparrow

Chapter 2 – Captain Jack Sparrow  
  
(A/N: Note that William Turner is twenty-five when he leaves Rockwell, and ten years older than Jack Turner.)   
  
He sailed out into the distance, mesmerized by the sea. This man's dark eyes reflected the dark sea of the night below. He stood at the bow of the Black Pearl, silent for quite a time, apparently lost completely in his thoughts.   
  
Jack Sparrow thought of his ship, his crew, and of his freedom. Thoughts crossed came to him about Will Turner and Elizabeth Swan every once in awhile, bringing a small smirk to his face. "Nice hat," he muttered to no one but the wind.   
  
Will Turner. That name made him think of William Turner, Bootstrap Bill, if you will. Closer than acquaintance was Bill to Jack Sparrow, if truth be told. Bootstrap Bill was Jack's older brother, or so Bill insisted. Ever since Jack could remember, he had had no family.   
  
Waiting for him at Tortuga, as the Black Pearl docked with his old crew some four years ago, was a man named William Turner. He eyed Jack closely and insisted from then on that Jack Sparrow was indeed a boy named Jack Turner. Captain Sparrow would never much have vied for the sanity of this weathered man, but he took a liking to him, and kept him on board the Black Pearl for a few short years. He said he'd left behind his family, wife and child on an island, Rockwell. His boy was only ten when he'd left them.   
  
William insisted that he had been searching for his lost brother for years upon years, and that he had a son 8 years before this Jack Turner had gone missing.   
  
All was peaceful on the sea of the Caribbean. The small waves gently rocked the boat back and forth. The ship was heading to Tortuga. After meeting Will Turner, the son of Bootstrap Bill, Jack and a woman to see. She was an old friend indeed. She would tell him once and for all what he was most scared to ask her of. His past.   
  
The farthest thing back he could remember was being a pirate. A young pirate, but a pirate none the less. Aboard a ship called the Grey Lady. He had made a name for himself as the years went by, finally leading him to the Captainship of the Black Pearl.   
  
It wasn't his for a time, but he tends to let those times slip through his mind, regarding them as a temporary mishap.   
  
It was time to return to his bed, the Captain must get his rest as well as anyone else. Jack went and knocked on Ana Maria's cabin, asking her to take the helm for the rest of the night. He returned to his own cabin after she consented, and felt for his matches in one of his many pockets. Jack lit a small candle in his cabin, his mind still alive, his body exhausted.   
  
Dark eyes lined with coal stared into the burning flicker for maybe an hour, thoughts still brooding in his mysterious head. He had had lovers in his life, Tortuga being the place it is, and rum being the beverage of choice. But Sparrow had never, and would never find love. Each woman he saw he felt little interest, though he was a charmer, and had a few women still left with the dust in their eyes from his flying footprints. Every time he loved another woman, he felt as though he were chasing a ghost, a ghost long lost.   
  
He shook his head, his beaded hair shaking with it, making clinking noises. His palm outstretched, Jack clasped a fist around the lit candle, and the room was dark, rocking slowly. The noises of the sea sang him to sleep after awhile.   
  
He was running, through a forest of some sort, chasing a woman in a white dress. He had had this dream many times before. He caught a glint of red hair through the darkened woods. She was laughing as she ran, the lilting laughter falling off of her soft breath. She never saw him, though. This always disturbed him. But he would chase her through all his dreams. Mostly in the forest, sometimes on a beach. Every now and then he would catch a little glimpse of her. But she was always so far ahead.   
  
This dream had never bothered him hugely before, but now that his thoughts were focused so much on seeing the Mistress, as she called herself, he couldn't help but wonder even in his dream. He knew he was dreaming, he had a lot of control over himself, but not over her. In his thoughts he willed her to turn around, thought about it with his entire mind. She would never turn around for him. He was doomed to chase her for forever.   
  
He felt young in this dream, very young. She was not too old herself. "Lady!" He cried out to her, "Please, what is your name!" She just laughed, the laugh carrying back to him on the wind. There was just no use in chasing her. Jack walked after the direction she had gone in, finding nothing particular, but some ways in the distance there was a clearing. He sped up a bit once he got near it, and found himself on a beach. Waves were crashing down, and it was storming now. It was dark, but it seemed too bright for him to see far out into the sea. Finally, the blinding light lessened, and he saw a speck of white running out into the sea, beginning to swim. He almost called out to her again, but knew it would be of no use.   
  
His surroundings seemed to be rocking. A beach, rocking? He sat down, unsure of what was happening, and then the blinding light returned, he lay back, and squinting, opened his eyes into the light.   
  
Not only light, but sound as well flooded Captain Jack Sparrow's senses. Things were busy aboard the Black Pearl, voices were yelling and people were stomping about. There was a loud knock at his door.   
  
"Aye?" He called, seeming slightly annoyed, perhaps just cranky.   
  
"Aye! Get up and handle yer own ship! I 'aven't slept at all! I'm goin ta bed!" The voice was both rough and shrill at the same time.   
  
Jack stretched and sighed, "Ah, lovely Ana Maria." He could tell by the lack of further words that she had already gone and done as she said she would. She was a bit of a firecracker, that one. Never could tell what she was thinking. Then again, that may be all women, not that Jack had known a lot of women as more than one night acquaintances.   
  
He shrugged and went to his little washing basin, full of ice-cold water, and rubbed his face, so as to wake up. A glance he gave down to his hands, and he shook them off with disgust as he saw them covered with black. "Bloody coal," he muttered, and as was his ritual about once a week, he shut his eyes and scraped a piece of dark coal over them, to protect them from the sun, or so he believed. Jack put on his Captain's coat, and left his cabin rather lazily.   
  
A few of them men stared at him as he walked out, "Hard night, Cap'n? Ye look rather pale." Said a man named Connor.   
  
Jack smirked at him, "Nay, it wasn't so bad, but the face washing this morning sure did me in, makin' me pale and all." Connor chuckled, as the glint in the Captain's eyes expected. Sparrow walked onward, to the helm of the ship, checking to make sure that all were hard at work.   
  
He reached the front deck, and found it empty, as was to be expected, now that Ana Maria had retired.   
  
Jack heard a scurrying, as someone following him, and he turned around, hands palm in palm behind his back. It was his first mate, Gibbs, who seemed just slightly out of breath as though he had been chasing Jack all around the ship. "We'll reach Tortuga by the night, Cap'n, I'm afraid."   
  
"Afraid, Gibbs?" Jack raised an eyebrow just slightly.  
  
"Aye, don't want ta end up with the pigs agin. Ya know how I got there don't ya? It was when I was on the run from 'Port Royal' meself. I 'ad a ship, well, that's sayin, I was on one for a time, and they, they bloody left me jis cause I gone and got drunk. Don't they know yer not s'posed ta leave till morning anyways?" Gibbs talked slowly, explaining himself and making sure he did it correctly.   
  
"Aye, don't worry. We won't be leavin ya, you're a valuable commodity, you are." Gibbs just smiled and shook his head at the Captain, and turned away, beginning to walk back to his duty of, shall we say, micromanaging the ship.   
  
So Captain Jack Sparrow, receiving his little morning report, leaned on the front of his ship, staring into the endless sea, as was the general ritual of the days and nights and the days and nights when nothing too interesting is happening. 


	3. Tortuga

Chapter 3 - Tortuga  
  
The hills of Tortuga were shrouded in mist when the Black Pearl approached it. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, far down to the west. It was near dark, and lights began to come on. The Captain of the Black Pearl felt a certain calm within himself, as though he was reminded of a different time, a peaceful time. As they docked, he went about in a haze, walking around the ship in an almost drunken manner.   
  
He seemed rather disoriented until his best drinking buddy came up to him, ready to head to the taverns for a night on the town. "Ya ready, cap'n? Ye haven't been out for a proper night in Tortuga in ages. That little visit ye had to fetch me and the crew didn't count for much."  
  
Jack half-smiled and cocked his hat, his thoughts of the Mistress drawn far away from him, with the taste of rum in the very air of Tortuga. "Aye."   
  
They found themselves soon off of the Pearl and into the midst of the Tortuga nightlife. There were 'ladies of the night' on every corner, a few of whom Jack recognized and gave a quaint smile to, not a bit of shame in his grin. They batted their lashes and showed their bosoms, but he said nothing to them on this visit.   
  
"She's a cute one to be sure. That one over there." Jack looked in the direction that Gibbs was pointing to; a saucy red head was walking over to them, rather haughtily. Within seconds she had reached them, and raised back her hand to slap Jack, again.  
  
"Jack Sparrow, you are the most infuriating pirate in all of the…" Jack caught her hand mid-swing.   
  
"It's Captain, love. Captain Jack Sparrow." He said with that smile of his.   
  
She looked rather haughty at the whole matter, her cheeks a natural rouge for once, but her skin still ghostly pale. He appraised her, she was a lovely girl. If only she had some sort of personality, he would have been able to put up with her for two seconds. "I swear, you are the most…"   
  
Jack gave her a warning look and she raised a brow to him. He rolled his eyes and swaggered about just a little, letting go of her hand with a flippant and rather disgusted gesture. They seemed more the bickering brother and sister than anything else.   
  
"Love I told you this a thousand times. I apologize." He gave a humbling bow as low as he could get to the ground. "Now if you will, please…" His voice trailed off as he made to move her out of the way.   
  
The girl placed her hands on her hips, obviously refusing to move. He made a gesture over to his left, and behind her. "Love, I think you've got a customer, aye?" She didn't look a bit ashamed, and sighed a sigh that meant giving up, and walked over with a smile on her face to the nameless man holding a hand full of gold.   
  
"Saucy, Mr. Gibbs, aye." But as he turned around, talking to Gibbs, he was nowhere to be seen. The Captain smiled and shook his head, knowing that the other man would already be down at the taverns. Where else?  
  
He was about to walk into The Red Dragon, one of his favorites. If you wanted to feel the burn of the liquor in your chest, this was the place to go. Many men, and women, went there to forget, to feel they're suffering inside and out. He went there to feel the burn, to feel alive.   
  
At the door he nearly tripped over a little girl, she was entirely out of place in this horrific scene. Or, at least, it should be horrific in the eyes of a child so small. She had a drink in her hands, a liquid of green. As they met eyes, she beckoned him to kneel down and talk to her, as if she had a secret to share with him.   
  
He kneeled down, being the decent man he was, and she had a giddy smile upon her face, and a twinkle in her eyes, a twinkle which seemed almost familiar. She whispered to him, "It's a potion that I made." The girl giggled innocently and held it out for him to try. "Go on, it won't hurt you. It makes you see the faeries!"   
  
Jack nodded his gesture and took the beverage, a happy grin on him the whole time. It was surprisingly sweet and base, not the fiery liquid he had been expecting for the last hours. She laughed and ran away, he only noticed then that she was clothed in a gown of white.   
  
His mind became more erratic, and his thoughts lingered on the girl, thinking how she was far too young to be the girl that he chased in his dreams. He stayed kneeling for quite awhile, but eventually got up and started walking, away from the tavern. Cool moonlight shone down on him, and the wind rustled the trees. Jack walked quite a ways away from the town, until he didn't quite know where he was anymore.   
  
Something had gotten to his head, and had hit him hard. He attempted to recall, and remembered vaguely that he hadn't drunk anything that night. Then he remembered the little girl, her sweet innocent face shining down on him as he knelt before her. "Red hair. Her hair was red." Jack stumped and he finally lay himself down in the sand, moonlight being the blanket upon Jack Sparrow that eve; he slipped into a light sleep, but one that was seemingly unavoidable.   
  
"You alright, there?"  
  
The morning light shone brightly past the Captain's lidded eyes, and he could feel the affects of last night. He paused in his thought. Last night? He never entered the tavern last night! Thoughts of the young girl rushed back into his head, and he gave a small smile before risking his sensitive eyes to the harsh light.   
  
"I said, you alright, there?" He felt a kick on his side, and recognized the voice as female. He looked more closely at her as he squinted. She had long dark hair, falling to block some of the sun; it had gray streaks in it though. The woman must have been forty, but she still retained a sense of regal beauty to her; a strange quality for a Tortugan woman to have.   
  
"Aye, aye, I'm up. And who might you be?" He turned a little, and expected to feel the rough sand stuck to the back of his shirt, but wherever he was, it was quite cushioned.   
  
"The one, the only." He raised an eyebrow, and gave the lady a look of pure and unmasked confusion. She rolled her eyes, "Let me getcha a drink, and see if you feel good enough to recognize whom you've come to see then!"   
  
The lady turned to go, and as her dress of black was sweeping along the wooden floor he had his epiphany. "Mistress! You're The Mistress. But, how did I get here then, eh? Las I remember I fell down to sleep at the beach."   
  
"Didn't she tell ya? The drink it was supposed to make ya see 'The fairies." Her voice was hushed and mocking at the word fairies.   
  
Sparrow looked again confused beyond all doubt and she walked back over to where he was. "The drink my girl gave ya was naught but a sleeping drought. Yeh didn't walk anywhere, or at least not far. She led you back here, not but a quarter of a mile out of the city."  
  
He shook his head, "No no, I walked for miles and miles, and she ran off after she gave me the drink and I had dreams of a girl with red hair. I had dreams of Fi-." He caught himself and his black eyes gleamed, terrified. He had been another for a moment, if only just that moment. His train of thought was gone and he was lost again. He gripped his silver necklace, and wide-eyed, said to no one but himself in a small whisper, "I was almost home."   
  
"Home, aye? Where is your home then lad, if not but here?" He gazed at her suspiciously, almost untrustingly.   
  
"Who would know that but the Mistress herself, hmm?" Jack stood up; his boot buckles rattling slightly as they hit the floor. He seemed to be countering her, seeing right through her gaze.   
  
She remained fairly tight-lipped, and ignored him, "I will get you you're drink now, Captain." The lady gave a mock-curtsy and walked swiftly out of the room.   
  
Jack was left alone with his thoughts now, trying to regain that thought he had had; that second of seeming consciousness in a gallery of sleep and dreams. He began to sat down, but the second he had he stood back up and walked in the direction of the Mistress.   
  
He called brashly, "Who's name was it that I said right now? Did I say a name? Did I say a place? I can't seem to remember what I was thinking of." There was no response, and he wandered farther through the house. The kitchen he passed through was ornately decorated, with large windows full of streaming sunlight. She was nowhere to be seen. A door at the end of a dark hall was cracked open just slightly, and there was a music box tune coming from there.   
  
Jack ventured down this hallway, noting the multiple doors on either side of this dark place. As he reached the end he peered through the crack, inside it seemed a child's fantasy. The walls were lightwood, but onto them had been sketched large fairies and other winged creatures. They were flying above a sea, outlined in black below. His own fantasies mingled with the fantasy of this room, and he ventured to crack it open a little bit farther. The door creaked loudly, and as soon as it did it slammed shut, and he heard a scream from down the hall. It was one of pain.   
  
He turned around with only slight reluctance, to run to the place where the scream had come from. Jack found the Mistress on the floor, clutching her stomach. "How dare you!" Her shriek was in agony. He was horribly confused again. "Enter the chamber of my dead daughter!" She was crying amidst the screams.   
  
"I . . . but I thought that it was . . . there was music." She glared at him with flashing eyes of the sea.   
  
"There has been no music in there for years. There was no music." Her tone was still strained and angry. "You will find out what it is you came for on your own. Now leave! Run away from here, far away from here. Never return to my household." Her voice was menacing, and her eyes were swirling, becoming almost demonic.   
  
Jack turned as she said, wishing that he could have just had another look at the room of mysteries. But she had alarmed him as well, and he knew that in the house of a gifted one, there had to be some . . . supernatural troubles. Quickly enough he found his way back to the front door, the sobs and screams were silenced. Before he touched the handle he hesitated for a moment, listening, hardly breathing. He could hear nothing. It was eerie. Jack opened the door and shut it behind him, and began walking, looking for a vision of the city he knew so well.   
  
After he had gone not a hundred feet through what might have well as been a desert, he turned around to take a last glance at the haunted house. It was gone. Jack made a wide circle, looking for something, anything on the horizon. There was nothing to be seen. Jack swirled around, forgetting which direction he had been going in the first place. He was . . . lost. Jack Sparrow was lost. 


End file.
